“Damn,” Jalen muttered. “Nigga growing up on me.” I ended the call as I made it back downstairs and immediately pulled my publicist Cherry’s contact information. Jalen and Pops were right. There was no way I was going to train on Monday morning.
Me:
Push training camp back a week. I’m staying in Shoreline longer.
The three dots appeared almost instantly.
Cherry:
Everything okay?
I stared at the message for a second before typing back.
Me:
Family situation.
I shoved my phone into my pocket, adjusted my duffel bags, grabbed the keys to my truck, and headed for the door. Ali lifted his head the second I walked by him. He stared at me through the glass like he knew damn well I wasn’t leaving him again.
“Don’t start, Ali.” I stared at him for a second before deciding his ass was coming with me. I didn’t know the next time that I would be home. “You coming too.” I grabbed his travel tank from the storage cabinet, transferred him over, then tossed a container of food into my bag.
“We doing this shit together,” I told him as I headed out the door. I’d spent my whole life wondering why a parent would leave their kid behind, and I wasn’t about to become one.
“Who the hell—” The pounding at my front door pulled me out of my sleep so hard my heart immediately jumped into my throat. For a second, I lay there confused, staring at the ceiling, thinking maybe the knocking was at a neighbor’s door. Then another round of heavy knocking echoed through my apartment. I pushed my naked body up out of the bed and grabbed my robe off the chair. I tied it around my waist while making my way toward the front door.
“Whoever this is better have a good reason to be at my damn door.” I made my way through the apartment. It was still dark outside of the faint early morning light pushing through the blinds. It couldn’t have been later than six. I glanced toward Dae-Dae’s room. His lights were still off, and his room was stillquiet. Another round of knocks sounded. My irritation crawled up my spine as I reached the door. The moment I looked through the peephole, I froze. KO. What the hell was he doing outside my door with two huge duffel bags? I thought he’d gone back to Azalea.
“KO?” I snatched the door open before I could think too hard about it. His eyes moved over me quickly before landing back on my face. “What are you doing here?”
“My son lives here,” he said simply. “So for now, I do too.”
I eyed him. His words hit me square in the chest, but before I could even process them, he stepped into my space.
“You’re gonna move.”
“KO, you can’t?—”
“Move, Lyrius.”
I didn’t even fight. I just stepped aside and watched him walk into my apartment, carrying two huge duffel bags. My eyes grew big. Was he seriously trying to move in here?
“KO, you can’t just move in!” I whisper-yelled, shutting the door behind him. “What the hell?”
“You couldn’t have believed I was going to be okay with being a part-time father.” He dropped them near the couch, and my mouth fell open.
“No, but . . .”
“I got a son in this apartment. We’ve got to figure out schedules, custody, school, and all kinds of shit, but I’m not about to sit up in Azalea without my son until we get it figured out.”
I stared at him and at his bags. This man had even brought his damn turtle. He was dead serious.
“You can’t just move into my apartment!” I repeated. “You’re not on the lease. We’re not even in a relationship.”
“Would you rather me drag y’all back to Azalea? Or you want me to drag you into court first?”
“No!”
“Alright then.”
